Something Tough
by Jen26
Summary: Hermione is faced with two very tough problems...she finds herself without a job, and in the grasp of two very sexy men...she can handle the job she gets, but what about the men?


  
  
  
  


Chapter 1

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A/N: Yahoo! Okay, my first fic out and finally too! Please tell me what you all think, okay? It really is important to me. Give me reviews and I'll give you chapters. Hehe, actually, just tell me you like it and you get another chapter. Enjoy!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  


"Hermione Carolyn Granger! Is that you?"  


  
  
  


I cringed, opening the front door to my parent's house. I knew I should have called back, but my mouth was frozen at the moment. Grandma Prue waddled into the room and smiled. "Yeah, that's her Lydia. Relax." She smiled again, and I knew they were on the verge to spilling something into my lap.  


  
  
  


My mother came down the hallway, and put her hands on her hips. She had an apron on around her waist and I supposed that she was making dinner when I arrived. Yes, I could smell it. I sniffed; maybe tonight was lamp chops and potatoes. Dad's favorite. Not mine.  


  
  
  


"Good God, Hermione. You scared the hell out of me. I didn't know who was coming in our front door."  


  
  
  


Like hell she didn't. I saw her watching me lock my broom outside through the window. "Sorry I worried you, mom."  


  
  
  


She huffed at me, then walked back to the kitchen to continue cooking. "Now dinner will be ten minutes late. Your father won't be happy."  


  
  
  


Grandma Prue put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a hug. "I'm damn glad you're here. This place is duller than an museum full of waxed manikins." She shrugged. "Not that I don't find manikins interesting, but they stand still all day. You'd think that they'd get tired in that pose." She walked off shaking her head, and it accrued to me that Grandma never thought twice that the manikins weren't real.  


  
  
  


Grandma Prue was a seventy-eight year old woman with thin graying hair that was neatly plastered to her head in large tootsie roll curls. She was relatively sweet, and she was the witch in the family with me, seeing that she was how I became one. She was always in Lavender's Crimp and Curl hair salon gossiping regularly on Thursday afternoons with other elder women in the neighbor hood. Everyone loved her.with a kind of family love.  


  
  
  


My father hated her. He loved her too, but she drove him nuts. She had moved in with them about six months ago and you'd think the man was laying on his death bed. Ever since Grandpa Vinnie died of a heart attack, Grandma had decided it was time for someone to take care of her, and she didn't want it to be a nurse.  


  
  
  


I walked down the hall to follow the aroma and found my father sitting at the table reading the paper. They lived in a small community that was on the brink of magic and muggle. Mom and Dad wanted to be close to me, and Grandma wanted to keep in touch with the wizarding world.  


  
  
  


He looked up from the paper. "Well isn't this a surprise."  


  
  
  


"Hi dad." I took a seat at the table and watched my mother come out with things on steaming plates. She stopped, set the lamb on the table, and then stared at me for a long good minute. I felt like I would be safest if I closed my eyes and prayed that she was just trying to notice the new scarf I bought.  


  
  
  


"You're staying for dinner?" she asked questionably. I nodded, and looked at the lamb. Even if I knew it was once a cute and cuddly and full of white fluff, it was smelling appetizing. And I'd most likely have eaten anything if I could have gotten away from my mother right then.  
  


  
  


"Well, yeah I am staying for dinner." I looked around and saw Grandma had taken the place across from me. "I thought it'd be nice."  
  


  
  


"Nice," she murmured. She threw her hands up in the air, and turned around. "Nice!" She let out a laugh, then disappeared into the kitchen. My father watched her with an eye, then turned back to the paper.  
  


  
  


I sat quietly as mom brought all the food onto the table. I sat thinking that I could never do this, not ever. I could never slave over a stove cooking and cleaning. I shivered. I hated those things. I loved to keep things tidy. Not major cleaning.  
  


  
  


She set the last plate down and tossed her apron back on the wall. "What's wrong Hermione? Are you cold?"  
  


  
  


"No!" I said, a little too quickly. "No, I'm not cold at all. Just tired I guess."  
  


  
  


My mother sat down at the end, across from dad. She took in a deep breath and put a forced smile on. I had to admit, even when she slaved all day, she managed to serve with a smile. "Well, " she said. She looked at my father and frowned. He still had his nose stuck in the paper. "Oh sweet Jesus." She got up out of her chair.  
  


  
  


Grandma and I watched her walk around me, stand in front of dad, tap her foot and watch him like a hawk. She snatched the paper from his hands, threw it down the hall and marched back to her seat. Dad sat blinking blankly, staring at mom. He suddenly grinned and picked up his goblet.  
  


  
  


I never understood the love connection between my mother and father. At times they could be melting with each other, much like they did when they were alone late at nights before Grandma Prue came. And sometimes they were arguing. Hey, love works in strange ways.  
  


  
  


Dad chopped off a big slice of lamb, and I suddenly remembered why I told myself I'd become a vegetarian. But of course, did I listen? No, and I cut myself a slice of lamb too.  
  


  
  


We ate in silence for what seemed to be a record of ten minutes. I was finally feeling secure when Grandma Prue decided to break the silence.  
  


  
  


"So Hermione," she said, rolling her fork in mashed potatoes. "How's your sex life? Any cute men lately?"  
  


  
  


I had been drinking my juice which I suddenly wished was whiskey or brandy. I was so sure I had bitten through the crystal and now had a large chunk of glass in my mouth. I coughed for a moment, trying to think of what to say.  
  


  
  


"Well, er," the truth was already said. I hadn't had sex in well over a year. I was almost twenty-two, damn it, and I hadn't gotten laid in over a year. It was down right depressing. I had found a way to cover it up. "No, no for a while, Grandma."  
  


  
  


"Damn," she said, picking up a pea. "All the good ones must be hibernating in the winter."  
  


  
  


I let out a shaky laugh, and glared down at my food. I suddenly hoped that the rest of tonight's conversation would consist on my sex life.  
  


  
  


"How come you never bring men to dinner?" My mother asked.  
  


  
  


Uh oh. The very question (along with others) that I had been hoping to avoid tonight. Actually, I had been hoping to avoid that question ever since I had graduated Hogwarts. I had brought Harry and Ron over to dinner one night, and after that Mom kept asking me to bring them over. I took that as a clue to move out.  
  


  
  


"Well mom, you see." I wringed my hands in my lap. "I haven't been on very lasting dates. Only first dates so far." Lie number one; I haven't gone on any first dates. "I haven't met a guy that's worth two dates." Lie number two; no first dates equals no second dates. "And I haven't really thought I should bring a guy home on the first date." Truth number one; I had thought about it once to get a guy to see my family so I'd be single again.  
  


  
  


"Liar," she said, seeing through me clear as glass. "Why don't you meet men?"  
  


  
  


"Because I work, mom." I said, looking down at my hands. "Actually, speaking of my job."  
  


  
  


My mother put her hands on her hips, her lips firm. She was preparing herself for the worst. "Yes?"  
  


  
  


"Well, I sort of got angry at my boss and um." I looked at them. All eyes on me. Damn. "I'm unemployed."  
  


  
  


Grandma Prue considered this, then thinking no big deal, went on eating. Dad stared at me, and my mother let out a shriek.  
  


  
  


"Unemployed? Joe, out daughter is living out on the streets!"  
  


  
  


"I'm not living out on the streets, Mom. I've got some jobs that are temporary until I find a replacement. It's not bad. I'm fine." She only stared at me. Oh well. It was worth a try.  
  


  
  


"Hermione, you are without a job. You have no money and you are JOBLESS!"  
  


  
  


I played with my scarf, thinking I should have just said no and saved the fifteen gallons. "I guess you could say that."  
  


  
  


Mom was up around, without finishing her plate or even bothering to clean hers. "Hermione, do you need a place to stay? What if they take your apartment away? What if." she slapped a hand over her mouth. "What if you need to move in? I suppose you could use the guest room, since Grandma has moved into yours."  
  


  
  


Dad grunted. That was his way of saying, "No way in hell anybody else is moving into this house."  
  


  
  


"Mom I'm fine! I told you already." I sighed, wishing I had done this on the phone instead at her house. No, actually, I would have hung up and she'd knock on my door a second later. This way, if things get to hectic I can get on the broom and leave.  
  


  
  


I felt my face get hot under my bangs and took an angsty look across the table. Grandma Prue was sitting with her elbows on the table, watching my mother ramble on and on about me losing my job. Great Wizards, I didn't even think it was that big of a deal. It was a crummy job. Didn't pay much, and it was about time I moved on. My mother didn't seem to think so.  
  


  
  


"I can find a new job," I said. "Piece of cake." Right? I was kidding myself. "It's not hard. Probably something in the Ministry is open. I'll have Harry or Ron look in on it." Damn. I still had to tell them about this too. They'd probably react in the same way, except without the asking if I need a place to stay. They were my best friends, for sure, but hey, they were men. Single men, and they didn't really want to have a female roommate. I suppose it wouldn't look good with their girlfriends. If they had some.  
  


  
  


"FIND A NEW JOB?" my mother said, curling her fists tight. Uh oh. I closed my eyes and swallowed loudly.  
  


  
  


"Well, yeah. I've done it before. I've got great skills, mom. Even more than Harry or Ron. It'll be simple to get a job." I hope.  
  


  
  


She kept talking. I checked my watch and grimaced. It was getting late. I looked down at my plate of dinner and suddenly lost my appetite. I rubbed my temples and let out a low sigh. The next thing I knew my mother was standing next to me, her face close to mine, hoalering in my ear.  


  
  
  
  


"Hermione Granger! Are you listening to me?"  
  


  
  


"Y-Yes." I stumbled out of my chair. I hoped she wouldn't ask me to repeat everything she had said, because then I would have though I might get grounded. I had never gotten grounded in my life, and I certainly didn't intend to start now. I was a fully grown woman and I didn't live at home anymore.  
  


  
  


I picked up my coat while my mother rushed back into the kitchen, most likely to start cooking or ironing when she did when she was stressed. I relieved stress by casting curses on my pillows curtains and blowing up lamps. I found my method better. Of course, afterward I'd be without a good lamp or have a pillow that would prick you when you used it. Poor Ron.he had came in an counter with a cursed pillow.  
  


  
  


I shrugged into my coat, wishing I had brought my cloak instead, but I had wanted to wear something muggle, even if Grandma Prue was here. I pulled out my wand and set it on the table. I rummaged in my pocked to find a mint.  
  


  
  


My mother came back with an upside down cake. I looked to her and she stared back at me. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked blankly. I stopped looking through my pocket. She glanced at my wand on the table. "Good god, you aren't going to curse the table, are you?"  
  


  
  


I groaned, slapping my hand on my forehead. Although now that she mentioned it. "NO! I'm not cursing anything. I just took it out of my pocket."  
  


  
  


Grandma Prue stuck her fork into some peas. "I don't know why you refuse to accept magic."  
  


  
  


"I accept it. It's just that Hermione has a knack of cursing things."  
  


  
  


"Only when I'm upset." I said, waving my hands. I had suddenly noticed that my father had managed to get up, slip down the hall and go into his and my mother's room without being seen. Good English genes allow you to disappear when you want to. Damn. Too bad I didn't have those.  
  


  
  


"I keep telling her," Grandma said, "You can use magic too. Just work a little harder and believe yourself."  
  


  
  


"But Grandma. She's a muggle." I wished I hadn't said that. My mother stood at the frame with her hands on hips. She normally is a lot calmer than this. A lot sweeter too. I must have come on a bad day. Grandma usually warns me about these, but today she must have forgot.  
  


  
  


"I should go-"  
  


  
  


Grandma and mother were at it, a small bickering contest they liked to have once a week to make sure that they still had it. What they had, I wasn't sure, but I was almost positive that I'd have it too.  
  


  
  


I picked my things off the table including my wand and returned them to my pocket. I took one last glance at the two women, then quietly walked down the hall and closed the front door behind me. I walked down the snowy path that had been freshly covered with a faint powder of dust while I was inside. I unlocked my broom with a wave of my wand, and I climbed on and took another glance at the house. I could still hear them.  
  


  
  


I grinned. Hell, maybe I did have Good English genes. I shivered. Better not to jinx myself, so I kicked off a good twenty feet off the ground and leaned forward so I'd travel faster.  
  


  
  


Snow flurries and cold wind blew into my face and eyes, and I blinked widely trying to escape them. Finally I reached the main street of Hogesmade and I could land my broom and walk to my flat without going blind.  
  


  
  


I landed gently, tossing my broom over my shoulder. I took in a deep breath, watching people get the same idea as me and walk the rest way home. But some people kept going. I sighed, and took one step at a time, watching my feet sink in white fluff. I loved snow, and I had always loved winter. Not more than autumn, but autumn was when I had my birthday.  
  


  
  


When I reached my apartment, I was feeling tired and cranky, and I wished I had stopped at the Three Broomsticks to get a nice warm Butterbeer. I opened the door, threw my key on the small table by the door, and shut it behind me. I locked it, and walked forward. I pulled off my coat, and tugged off my scarf. I hung them both in the hall closet, then collapsed onto the couch in the living room.  
  


  
  


Cinnamon jumped up on the couch to greet me. He did this ever day, not that I minded, but sometimes I felt like I didn't need to be licked. I scratched him under the chin, and stared into his puppy dog eyes. I laughed. I prodded a pillow before settling my lap. The last time I had cursed a pillow Harry had tried to lean back on it and it had grown arms and tried to choke him.  
  


  
  


It would explain why they hated coming over here.  
  


  
  


I reached over a few other pillows and flipped on the lamp. The room was suddenly brighter, and I could see. 

Cinnamon curled up next to me with his head in my lap. I reach on the coffee table and picked up a good book. I smiled and settled down to read.  
  


  
  


Cinnamon was only a year old. Maybe less. I had been in my flat for about two months when Harry decided I needed someone to live with. When I refused to get a roommate, he went out, and bought me a puppy. Cinnamon was golden brown, the size of a miniature poodle, and was cuter than anything.  
  


  
  


I was halfway asleep when there was a knock at my door. It scared me when I heard a man's hard knocking. I placed a hand on my chest, patted Cinnamon on the head so he'd stop barking. I walked slowly over to the door and took a breath. I peeked through the hole. Nobody there. I unlatched the security chain and unbolted the lock. I opened the door a fraction of an inch and poked my head out. "Hello?"  
  


  
  


"Behind you."  
  


  
  


I yelled and slammed the door shut. I turned around and almost fainted. "God damn it. I told you not to do that. I thought we made an agreement of waiting outside."  
  


  
  


Harry grinned and shrugged out of his coat. He hung it on the back of the stools and looped the scarf off around his head. "Yeah, we did. But I knew you were here alone. You always are."  
  


  
  


"Thanks a lot."  
  


  
  


"What?" He grinned, and walked over to where Cinnamon was waiting patiently for Harry to pet him. "Hey boy." He scratched him behind the ears and Cinnamon gave a low howl. Harry grinned and looked up at me. "What were you planning to do tonight?"  
  


  
  


"Read and go to bed."  
  


  
  


"How about dinner?"  
  


  
  


"I kind of started a riot at my mother's house and lost my appetite." I stared at the floor. I remembered that I still had to tell him that I lost my job. Same with Ron. Oh goody.  
  


  
  


Harry sat down on the couch and poked a pillow with his index finger. "Yeah?" he checked the clock in the hallway. "It's just eight. When were you planning to go to bed?"  
  


  
  


"Maybe ten?"  
  


  
  


"Oh," he said, grinning.  
  


  
  


"What?" I knew that grin. He was making fun of me. "What Harry Potter?"  
  


  
  


"Nothing," he said, smiling grimly. "Just thinking you're not really a night person. I usually go to bed a midnight."  
  


  
  


"And you usually have a woman in bed with you, too."  
  


  
  


He stretched out on my couch and smiled. Cinnamon nestled himself in Harry's lap and looked like he was ready to go to bed. "Not tonight. You're the lady of the evening."  


  
  
  


I felt my cheeks get hot. "Oh goody."  
  


  
  


"You should be saying 'oh goody'. This is quiet an honor." He gave me a quick wink, and looked away. I guess I still wasn't used to Harry flirting with me. He and Ron had started doing this about our sixth year at Hogwarts.  
  


  
  


"I think I'll pass, but thanks." I picked up my book and began to read again. A few minutes passed by, and Harry's hand came out of no where and took the book away from me. He studied it for a minute, reading the cover, then the inside flap.  
  


  
  


"Hmm.a mystery novel. Very interesting. Ooh," he said, stopping halfway in the book, his eyes bulging. He slyly glanced back at me. "Hermione, you shouldn't be reading this. This book has graphic scenes."  
  


  
  


I snatched the book from him and stuck out my tongue. He grinned and stood up. He took my hand in his gave my palm a tiny kiss, then walked to the closet and took out my coat and scarf. He held them out for me.  
  


  
  


I stared at him. "What?"  
  


  
  


He held out his arms. "I'm taking you out to dinner."  
  


  
  


"You are? How come I didn't get a say in this?"  
  


  
  


Harry shook his head at me, grinning. "It's Friday night, Hermione. Neither of us have any better plans so let's go out to eat."  
  


  
  


"Oh," I said. I looked at Cinnamon. He was looking at me with a look that said, Hey, either you go or I do. I grinned, walked over to Harry and he helped me put on my coat. He handed me my scarf and I wrapped it around my neck. I reached in the closet for my broom, but Harry stopped me.  
  


  
  


"We're taking mine. Don't worry about it." He picked up my house key off the table, hussled me out the flat, gave Cinnamon a pat on the head, and locked the door behind him. He tossed me the key. "C'mon."  
  


  
  


He had locked the broom at the edge of the building. I wondered why he hadn't brought it up with him, but then again, he probably knew he was going to take me out to dinner.  
  


  
  


"Where to, madam?" He was sitting in front, he had a silly cap on his head that looked like was used on chaffers. He turned around and grinned widely at me. That's all Harry was. A goofball. That's what he always was and always going to be. Ron was more serious, but together they were trouble.  
  


  
  


"Hmm," I put my arms around his waist for support. "Maybe the Three Broomsticks?"  
  


  
  


He smiled. "Excellent choice, ma'am." He kicked off and looked back at me. "Are you meeting a man, my lady? A date perhaps?"  
  


  
  


I could kick him, then I'd have to rush to see if he was okay. "No, just a friend." Harry let out low laughter and threw his head back. I could only grin at him. If I knew anyone other than Harry acting this way I'd say that would have had too many Butterbeers. But Harry was silly all the time around me. That was how he got girls. They thought he was just adorable. They changed their mind after spending a night with him. Said he was a man, not a silly boy.  
  


  
  


Ugh. Not rumors I'd like to hear about my best friend.  
  


  
  


We landed at the Three Broomsticks and Harry jumped off first and did a silly little bow and helped me off the broom. I noticed girls stopped walking to stare at him. They giggled when he helped me off and tossed the broom over his shoulder. He winked at them and they all squealed.  
  


  
  


Ugh again.  
  


  
  


We walked in quickly, and Harry had put a hand on my shoulder and was staring down at me. I looked up at him and saw an eyebrow was raised and his green eyes were looking at me like I was hiding something. Hey, big deal. So I was. Sue me.  
  


  
  


"What?"  
  


  
  


"You're tense." He gave my shoulder a squeeze as if that was a demonstration. "Your shoulders are in knots."  
  


  
  


"So.what does that mean?"  
  


  
  


It looked like he was trying to grin, but he wouldn't. Damn. He was too concerned. "I'm fine, Harry. Really."  
  


  
  


"Lair."  
  


  
  


I stuck my tongue out at him, and he seemed to drop the subject. We walked up to Madam Rosmerta. She looked up at us and smiled. She knew we weren't on a date. One, everyone for some reason knew Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were best friends, and along with Ron Weasley. Two, we were underdressed for Harry's dates. He got dressed up and took them to the fancy resturaunts in Hogesmade. He wouldn't go to the Three Broomsticks. Maybe back in Hogwarts, but now, he liked the fancier places to treat his women.  
  


  
  


"Table for two please," Harry said politely. His voice and face had changed. Oh no. I'd seen that face before. It was the face he wore when he was with Cornelius Fudge. I shivered. Someone had opened the door and a snow fluster had rushed in.  
  


  
  


I could feel a hand in my hair and I turned to see Harry trying to pick snowflakes from my hair. I glared at him, and he back away, grinning.  
  


  
  


Madam Rosmerta smiled at us. She picked up two menus. "Right this way." She led us back to the room, near a window where the snow and frost were piling up.  
  


  
  


I slid into a booth by myself with my purse and pulled out of my coat and scarf. Harry shrugged out of both and put his elbows on the table and looked at me. I was transfixed on the window, and decided it was best if I didn't look at him.  
  


  
  


"Hermione."  
  


  
  


Damn. I looked at him and gave him my best what do you want look. He grinned, and took my hands in his. He rubbed his thumbs across the back of them, and smiled at me. Suddenly his face turned hard again, and his eyes darkened. "What's wrong?"  
  


  
  


I supposed I had to tell him about me being jobless. I swallowed. Harry wouldn't like that. But of course, he'd never been fired from a job. As soon as he was out of Hogwarts he had two priceless job opportunities. Playing Quidditch, or becoming an Auror. Feeling he had something to do with Voldermort, he chose to be an Auror. Ron, though, chose to be a famous Quidditch player. His dream.  
  


  
  


"Well," I said, not knowing where to begin. I looked at him. He certainly changed over the years. His hair had still stayed mussed and perfectly jet black and tangled, his eyes still being able to change from dazzling emerald to deep forest green in a split second, and his body had become toned, and the muscle had started to seek through his fitted t-shirts.  
  


  
  


"Well what?" he asked.  
  


  
  


I nibbled on the end of a bread stick that was set in the center of the table. I looked at him. He was watching me 

intensely. He really did want to know what was wrong. Oh damn.  
  


  
  


"I er, sort of lost my job." I mumbled.  
  


  
  


"You what?" Harry didn't sound pleased. I knew he wouldn't. He took my hands again and I felt a small shiver travel down the spine of my back. I looked into his eyes. He actually care. Well, that wasn't a real surprise. I always knew he cared. Every body cared about Hermione Granger. "Hey," his voice was soft. "It's okay. We just need to get you a new one. No biggie."  
  


  
  


Hah! He should have been at dinner to back me up on that with my mother. But of course, he wasn't, so all was wasted. "Yeah, no biggie."  
  


  
  


He kissed the back of my hand and watched Madam Rosmerta approach our table. He smiled at her and ordered two Butterbeers for us. I felt kind of shaky. Harry noticed. He took my hands again, and smiled at me. "Do you want me to help you find another job?"  
  


  
  


Yes. Yes. And yes. "No, I'll be okay." Yeah right. He and Ron had helped me find the first one. I had no clue what I was doing.  
  


  
  


Harry leaned back into his seat and grinned. "Liar."  
  


  
  


"Is that your new favorite word?" I asked him. "Everyone seems to like to calling me that."  
  


  
  


He grinned, rubbing a finger down his jaw line. "Nah, not yet at least. Just testing it on my tongue."  
  


  
  


I rolled my eyes at him and watched Madam Rosmerta deliver two steaming mugs of Butterbeer. I felt my mouth water and Harry lifted his mug to mine and gave it a small clang. "To you job hunting. And to a Merry Christmas in a few dozen weeks."  
  


  
  


"A dozen is twelve, you git."  
  


  
  


He took a long sip, licked the foam off his upper lip and grinned at me. "Well, then a quarter of a dozen. Three weeks."  
  


  
  


"Better." I took a sip of my own and felt a warm fullness wash over me. I licked foam off my own lips and smiled. He was grinning at me.  
  


  
  


"Feel better?"  
  


  
  


"Uh huh."  
  


  
  


"Good." He picked up my menu, opened it, and propped it up against the bread sticks basket. He opened his own and stared at it. "Hmm.what would you like to eat? What looks good so far?"  
  


  
  


I picked up the menu, and scanned it. She had four menus. Autumn menus, Spring menus, Summer menus, and Winter menus. Harry and I were staring into a bunch of nice hot, steamy meals. I was in the mood for soup. Good soup.  
  


  
  


"The soup looks good."  
  


  
  


He looked at me over the menu. I looked at him and only saw his eyes peeking at me. "Nah. I don't like soup."  
  


  
  


"You like soup when I make it. Or when my mother makes it."  
  


  
  


He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I do. I don't like it when I have to pay for it."  
  


  
  


I made a mental note to start charging Harry for each meal he has with me. I sighed, and he mumbled through the menu some more. "Hmm.I found it." He said, smiling.  
  


  
  


"Found what?"  
  


  
  


"Found what I was going to tonight." I rolled my eyes at him. He made it sound like it was something spectacular. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Big deal.I decided five minutes ago.  
  


  
  


"And what would that be?" I asked him, pulling on his menu with a finger.  
  


  
  


Harry grinned at me, and shut his eyes closed, bearing his wisdom teeth. I'm not sure if they were wisdom teeth, but they looked it. "Thick spaghetti with beefy meatballs." He licked his lips and laid his menu on op of mine.  
  


  
  


"Thick spaghetti?" I asked. I felt my stomach roll, and I didn't think I could stand to look at beefy meatballs.  
  


  
  


"Must be my Italian descent kicking in." he grinned.  
  


  
  


"Italian descent?"  
  


  
  


"Uh huh," he said, picking up a bread stick and biting off the end of it. I stared at him for a minute, then blinked.  
  


  
  


"I thought you were of Irish descent."  
  


  
  


"I am. I'm both. Mum and dad were both Irish and English. But my dad's mum was Italian." Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled at me.  


  
  
  


I looked at him hesitantly, as he gave our orders to Madam Rosmerta. I took another sip of Butterbeer, starting to seriously doubt that Harry was part Italian, but hey, you never know. It was a small world, after all.  
  


  
  


Our food came a minute later, and I thought I'd barf at the size of the meatballs, but they turned out to be okay. He ended up putting a little bit of spaghetti on my plate with half of a meatball. "It tastes better when the pasta is thick," he said. "Not angle hair."  
  


  
  


He was right. It was better, and for a minute, I wished that I had been Italian. We finished up, and when I stuck the spoon back in the bowl to stay, I think the top snap of my pants would come undone. I had eaten too much, but hey, it was great.  
  


  
  


I took another swig of Butterbeer, and noticed that Harry was watching me again. I looked back at him and he pulled one of his famous smiles and scratched the back of his head. He was trying to be cute. If I wasn't Hermione Granger, I would have melted on the spot and fell into his arms. But of course, I am me, and I don't do that. Not with men.  
  


  
  


"I'll get on the job thing, okay?" Harry said, leaving Madam Rosmerta a nice tip. He helped me into my coat again and handed me my purse and scarf. "Anything particular you'd like to do?" He reached and picked up his own coat and scarf and put them on.  
  


  
  


"Like what?"  
  


  
  


"I dunno." We walked outside and I shivered again. Snow was blaring into my face. Oh great, another blizzard. Harry looked up at the sky, which was black and dancing with white flecks. He watched his broom sway on it's invisible lock. "Maybe we should walk." He put a hand on his broom and unlocked it. He tossed it over his shoulder and we started walking back to my apartment.  
  


  
  


Neither of us felt like apparating, so we didn't waste our energy. Besides, Harry said he'd loved to walk in the snow. Much like I loved to dance in the rain.  
  


  
  


"What're you good at?"  
  


  
  


I gave him a look. "Come on, Harry. You know what I'm good at."  
  


  
  


He grinned. "Well, I don't know if you're good at that yet, but I'll find out." He grinned wider and I felt my cheeks get hot again.  
  


  
  


"Pervert." I swung my purse at him and he ducked. "I could put a curse on you, you know. You know how I just love to curse things."  
  


  
  


That seemed to make him get quiet, and on the way back to my flat he asked me questions about jobs I might like. I answered them, and when I thought they'd never end, we found the building.  
  


  
  


Harry rocked on his heels and I guess he was wondering if he should walk me to my door. "I'll see you later, Harry." I smiled at him and turned away to walk up. I was to lazy to apparate to my door or even inside, so I decided maybe I should just walk in.  
  


  
  


"Hermione, wait!"  
  


  
  


I turned around and saw Harry with his arm stretched out. I stared at him, and he walked up to me, and wrapped his arms around me. He rested his chin on my shoulder and gave my cheek a quick kiss. "Don't worry. I'll get a job for you." He pulled away and grinned. He walked away and suddenly disappeared with a "pop".  
  


  
  


I turned away, thinking I had the energy. I sighed, and I disappeared with a pop. I found myself in my flat again. Cinnamon was sleeping away in the corner. He peeked on eye open, eyes the fireplace, then went back to sleep.  
  


  
  


I had been thinking the same thing, so I pulled out my wand, waved it, and my chimney was lit up and heating my flat up slowly.  
  


  
  


I changed out of my clothes and pulled on a night shirt, slipped it over my head, and climbed into bed. Cinnamon came running in a minute later, jumped on the bed, and settled himself on the end corner of my bed. The comforter was white and very puffy and warm. I snuggled underneath it and fell fast asleep.  
  


  
  


* * *  
  


  
  


The weekend was going to be slow for me, I could tell. Maybe Harry had gotten me a job, maybe not. I sighed, leaning back on comfy pillows on my bed. Cinnamon was curled up against me wanting to sleep. I looked out on the small balcony that the blizzard had past, and that a few more inches of snow had piled on the ground.  
  


  
  


I kicked off the blankets and sheets, walking barefoot on hardwoods over to the sliding glass door. I opened the curtains and smiled. I slipped on some fuzzy house shoes and skipped out of the room with Cinnamon on my heals. I wandered into the kitchen, wandering if there was anything to eat. I found some plain oatmeal and decided it was good enough.  
  


  
  


I was reaching for the bowl when I heard a small pop in my living room. I set the bowl down and walked slowly back to the living room, picking up my wand from the counter. There was a man in my apartment, carrying a box. He turned around and I felt a sigh of relief.  
  


  
  


Harry grinned at me. "Nice to see you too, sleeping beauty. I came earlier, but you were still asleep." He put the box on the counter. "I thought you might be hungry. Nothing here but oatmeal. I checked." He made a face. Harry had a problem with oatmeal. I was better not to ask.  
  


  
  


I peeked at the doughnuts. He brought glazed. My favorite. I looked up at him to see he was staring at me, his eyes traveling up and down my legs. I put my hands on hips and glared at him. He grinned lightly and put an easy arm around my shoulders.  
  


  
  


"Cute slippers."  
  


  
  


"Your scum."  
  


  
  


He grinned at that. He tore open the box, and took out two plates from the cabinet. He placed two doughnuts on them, took them to the living room and set them on the coffee table. I sat down next to him and gave him a napkin, keeping one for myself.  
  


  
  


"I got you a job," he said between bites.  
  


  
  


I stared at him. Already? Damn, that was fast. "What is it?"  
  


  
  


He grinned. "Well you keep saying how happy you were when I got you Cinnamon, and how much you love animals, so I uh, talked to Fudge, and he said the Animal department was hiring. You chief assistant."  
  


  
  


"Animal department?"  
  


  
  


He shrugged. "Hey, it's a job. It pays real well too. You'll love it. You get to study and classify all different kinds of magical creatures." He chuckled. "The perfect job for Hagrid. In fact, if you run across something you think he'd like, you should give him a call. He'd appreciate it."  
  


  
  


"Hagrid likes all creatures."  
  


  
  


Harry licked icing off his finger and smiled. "Yeah, that's true. Guess that won't leave much of a selection, huh?"  
  


  
  


I hit on the back of the head and earned another grin from him. Hmm. He must be used to women smacking him around.  
  


  
  


He took out plates back in the kitchen and returned a minute later with another doughnut on each. I pinched off a bit and tossed it in my mouth. I gave Harry a once over. He'd already had a shower, shaved, and smelled like pines and honey.  
  


  
  


He stuffed the doughnut in his mouth and looked at me. I laughed him, since half the doughnut was still sticking out of his mouth. I pushed it in, and watched him chew. He swallowed and smiled. "Ah, thank you."  
  


  
  


I rolled my eyes at him and scratched Cinnamon under his chin. "So, give me the details about the job."  
  


  
  


"Didn't I just do that?"  
  


  
  


"No," I said. "When do I go in? How much does it pay? How many hours a day is it? A week?"  
  


  
  


"Okay, slow down, honey," he said, holding his hands up. He ran a hand through his hair and eyed the rest of my doughnut. I pushed the plate toward him. He took it and chewed on it. "You start Monday. I'm not exactly sure on how much you get paid, but it's for the Ministry and it's good money. Not much less than what I make. And you work the same hours I work, different building."  
  


  
  


That meant getting up at seven so I'd be at work at eight, and I'd get home at five. Great. "Great, Harry. Er, thanks."  
  


  
  


"What's wrong?"  
  


  
  


"Well, I didn't expect to even hear from you until next week. And then I expected to hear you were still looking."  
  


  
  


Harry stuck his tongue out at me. "I guess you guessed wrong. I get the job done." He leaned toward me, brushing my hair away from my ear. His voice was low and husky, "Anytime."  
  


  
  


I stared straight ahead of me, blinking down at my bare knees. I looked over at him. He was sitting on the floor playing with Cinnamon. I stood up, taking the plates to the sink. "Harry?"  
  


  
  


He looked up. "Yeah?"  
  


  
  


"I'm going to take a shower. I guess I'll see you on Monday or something." I gave him one of my sweetest smiles before walking off to my room, picking out some clothes, laying them on my bed and walking into the shower.  
  


  
  


On Monday, work wasn't exactly all it had sounded. But I had survived, and it was enjoyable after a while. Hey it was work, just like Harry had said. I liked it. I loved animals. I sighed, picking up Cinnamon and walking over to the balcony. I opened it, and felt some flurries flutter in, but Cinnamon wanted to sniff the air.  
  


  
  


I heard a knock on the door. I walked over and peeped through. I came eye to eye with a green cyclone. I hollered and gritted my teeth. I yanked the door open and Harry grinned me. He walked in, on yet another Friday night, with nothing to do except talk to me.  
  


  
  


"What do you feel like doing tonight?"  
  


  
  


"Harry, this is the second Friday night that you wanted to stuff with me."  
  


  
  


Harry sat in my rocking char and stared back at me. "And your point is?"  
  


  
  


What was my point? "You don't have plans?"  
  


  
  


He looked at me. He gave my outfit a once over. "You don't either."  
  


  
  


That was true. It was just about time to do things, and I was still dressed in sweats and a long sleeve shirt. I sighed, and sat on the couch. Cinnamon was more content on sitting with Harry than me, and that was fine.  


  
  
  


Harry grinned. "I know what we could do." He looked at me. "Put on some warm socks and outdoor boots," he instructed. "And maybe a sweatshirt." He pulled on his long coat and scarf and smiled at me.  
  


  
  


I disappeared into my room for a minute and put on thick wool socks and dark brown boots. I slid a sweatshirt on and walked out. Harry grinned when he saw me. He had already had my coat and scarf out. He also had a hat out for me.  
  


  
  


"Harry, what're we doing?"  
  


  
  


"You'll see." He slid the coat on over my arms and slung the scarf around my neck. I pulled my hair out from underneath them and felt Harry plop the hat on my head. He pulled me out of the flat my hand. He shut the door behind me and grinned. He ran down the stairs with me and was grinning like a silly schoolboy.  
  


  
  


He pulled me through the front door and stopped suddenly, throwing his arms wide, smiling. "This is why," he said. He grabbed my hands, stepping out on iced pathway. He swung me around by my hands. It reminded me once of when we ran out on the snow at Hogwarts.  
  


  
  


We fell down in a plum in the snow, and now I knew why he'd asked me to dress like this. He was breathing in and out, his cheeks red, his eyes shinning, his mouth in a genuine smile. He turned to me, with a hand behind his back. All of a sudden I felt like I knew what he was going to do and started to back away.  
  


  
  


Bam!  
  


  
  


He hit me with a snowball right on the butt. I turned around to look at it, then wiped it off, giving him a glare. He only grinned and ran around the lot. I chased him, making my own snowball and chucking it at his face. It skimmed the side of his head and hit his ear.  
  


  
  


"Ow," he said. "Now my ear's cold." Harry looked at me. "Oh, now you're gonna get it."  
  


  
  


We chased each other for a while, until I hit him square in the face. He glared at me, wiping his face with probably a freezing hand. "Ooh, so that how you're going to play, huh?" He walked toward me, and I slowly back away.  
  


  
  


He had two snowballs in his hands. He raised his hands and grinned evilly. I knew that grin. I closed my eyes and felt them hit me. I looked down and saw two snowballs hit me squarely in the chest. I glared at him, brushing them off.  
  


  
  


I packed a big bundle of snow together, and went chasing after him. He ran away from me for a good amount of time, until I finally got him. He had fallen backwards, propping himself up on his elbows, slowly backing away from me. I took aim, and hit him between the legs.  
  


  
  


He stayed still for a minute, blinked. For a minute, I thought I'd hurt him and he was trying to act like it didn't hurt. He looked down at his pants, then back at me. I could see him grinning. He reached across and pulled my leg out from underneath me.  
  


  
  


I laid back on my back, breathing hard, feeling Harry crawl next to me. We turned to his side facing me and propped himself up on his elbow. He grinned. "Good for a Friday night?"  
  


  
  


I grinned. "Yeah. I don't think we've had this much fun in a while Harry," I let out a laugh.  
  


  
  


He grinned too. He was looking at me like something was different, but he didn't know what. I looked back at him, and he scratched his head. "Well, it gets better," he said.  
  


  
  


"Really?" Hmm. Maybe he'd go back upstairs and make tea. Highly doubtful. But hey, it was a possibility. "Does it have to do with you making tea?"  
  


  
  


He laughed. "No." he played with the snow in his fingers. "It has to do with you and me and snow."  
  


  
  


"Hmm." I looked at him. His eyes weren't bright anymore. They were slowly molding into deep forest green. I had no clue why, except the only time I had seen him like that was when Cho Chang had dumped him, and he had been upset. But.I wasn't sure about now. I wasn't quiet sure what was in his eyes right then.  
  


  
  


Then he did it.  
  


  
  


He reached over, put his hand on my waist, and lowered his face to mine. His breath was cool and sweet. Our noses touched briefly, but then our lips came into contact and Harry had somehow pulled me closer to him. Or maybe I had moved.  
  


  
  


It was slow and sweet at first, him teasing me, then hot, and I suddenly knew what was in his dark eyes. I felt like I was on fire from his lips, and a stinging in my stomach was rising. I knew what that meant.  
  


  
  


Harry's hand was tangled in my hair, while one was unbuttoning my coat and slowly unzipping my sweatshirt. I felt his cold hands on my skin and felt like I was waking up. We were outside. Freezing. And it was me and Harry.  
  


  
  


I pulled away from him, kicking up snow as I back away. Even though he had touched me with freezing fingers my skin was on fire where he touched. I touched my lips and stared at him. He was obviously kicking himself. He looked up at me and forced a tight smile.  
  


  
  


"I er," he stumbled with words. I couldn't speak. "Maybe I should go."  
  


  
  


"Yeah," I said, finding the word. It didn't roll off my tongue easily. "Yeah, maybe you should."  
  


  
  


He gave me one last longing glance, then apparated out of the lot. I ran my hands over myself, trying to get my heart to stop trying to leap out of my chest. I apparated back into my flat. I collapsed onto the couch, I stared at Cinnamon who's ears had perked up when I came home.  
  


  
  


Was that desire in Harry Potter's eyes?  
  


  
  


I leaned back clutching my legs tight to my chest.  
  


  
  


Oh boy. Oh boy!  
  


  
  


* * *  
  


  
  


A/N: OMG, okay, this is almost 15 pgs long, so deal with it if you don't think it's long enough. I hope you liked the long first chapter. Don't expect my the rest of my chapters to be this long. I usually like to end chapters at pg 9. But, hey, I was feeling in a writy mood. Sue me. R&R please! Thanks!  
  


  
  


TTYL,  
  


  
  


jen


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